The Spaniard did not seem to notice it, but remained gravely silent before Mrs.
Tucker, gazing at her with an expression of intent and unconscious absorption.
"You are quite right, Don Jose," said Poindexter, with ironical concern, "it is Mrs.Tucker.Your eyes do NOT deceive you.

She will be glad to do the honors of her house," he continued, with a simulation of appealing to her, "unless you visit her on business, when I need not say I shall be only too happy, to attend you, as before." Don Jose, with a slight lifting of the eyebrows, allowed himself to become conscious of the lawyer's meaning.

"It is not of business that I come to kiss the Senora's hand to-day," he replied, with a melancholy softness; "it is as her neighbor, to put myself at her disposition.

Ah! the what have we here for a lady ?" he continued, raising his eyes in deprecation of the surroundings; "a house of nothing, a place of winds and dry bones, without refreshments, or satisfaction, or delicacy.

The Senora will not refuse to make us proud this day to send her of that which we have in our poor home at Los Gatos, to make her more complete.
Of what shall it be?
Let her make choice.